


Stuck-y In Love

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drinking, Halloween, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, M/M, Misgendering, its gentle and unintentional and apologized for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 00:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4457849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: "We've never met but we wore matching Halloween costumes to this party and now everyone thinks we're a couple."</p><p>or Zouis au where both of them are kind of assholes and a Steve/Bucky costume combo IS a fucking couples costume with gross fluff</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck-y In Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thelonelycoast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thelonelycoast/gifts).



> For @thelonelycoast.
> 
> hi!! fun thanks to my very close friend luce @ fjreproof on tumblr who helped me out and held my hand and gave me so many suggestions throughout my writing process!!

Louis hasn’t been to a costume party since he was eight years old. His mum bought him a Power Rangers costume secondhand, and even though it wasn’t the right color, he felt like the coolest kid at the party.

That being said, Louis intends to go all out, been planning his costume since Liam mentioned his party months before Halloween. He’s been gathering supplies, spending long nights on the Internet looking for the best quality pieces and he’s so _ready_.

The fervor in which Louis is planning his Halloween costume may or may not have something to do with the boy Liam has promised to introduce him to at the party. Liam has been waxing poetic about this guy with gorgeous eyes “like gold pieces” and the “loveliest smile” and how he thinks Louis and him will get on like a house on fire. Louis is a bit skeptical, he admits, but that isn’t stopping him from putting his best foot forward, even if it’s just for a potential shag.

 

It’s a few days before the party when Louis runs out of glue for his glue gun. Some would see this as a crisis, but Louis just sees it as an opportunity for an adventure. It’s an adventure alone getting Niall into proper clothing and convincing him to give Louis a ride to the crafts shop. It takes tickles, a few love bites and the promise of glitter glue, but they’re out the door.

“I’m on a mission, Neil,” Louis reminds Niall as he walks with purpose toward the shop. “I need to put the finishing touches on my shield.” Unfortunately, there’s a huge sign on the glass door advertising buy-one-get-one-free glitter glue and Niall’s eye have glazed over and he’s practically running.

He’s disappeared by the time Louis enters the shop. To Louis’ mild horror, the entire place has been rearranged since last time he’d been there. Louis is a bit bewildered, and doesn’t know where to begin. Irritation floods his system because he abhors unneeded change.

Louis takes an unsure step toward the usual direction of the hot glue even though he’s got a pretty strong feeling that it isn’t going to be there. Before he can go any further, a figure stops him dead in his tracks.

Louis’ mouth forms a line, peeved further about being stopped mid-errand. “Can I help you,” the person inquires and Louis sighs internally, wondering how Niall escaped their grasp.

Said person is wearing a shop apron, a matching cap and a grin. They’ve got soft-looking raven hair and eyes worth drowning in but Louis is _busy_. “’m good, thanks mate, know what I’m here for and where to find it,” he lies hurriedly.

Louis is ready to bustle past the shop worker, but they're looking him up and down skeptically and finally give a snort. “Doubt it,” they drawls and Louis’ jaw drops, heat crawling up his neck.

Who does this person think they are, insinuating that Louis doesn’t know his way around? He doesn’t—but that’s beside the point. Louis is ready to fight but he also just needs to get his fucking shield put together. He glances at the shop worker’s nametag and it states: Zayn—cis/he/him/his.

“Listen, _Zayn_ ,” Louis begins, balling up his fists and leaning forward on his toes, “just because I don’t race to the isle I need the moment I enter the shop doesn’t mean that I don’t know what the bloody fuck I’m doing,” he states, sneering at Zayn and striding away.

 _What fucking nerve_ , Louis thinks, the tips of his ears and the back of his neck hot with embarrassment. When he finally arrives at the isle with his glue, he plucks several sticks off the shelf and turns to find Niall at the back of the store.

Louis calms a bit when he sees his best friend cross-legged on the floor, trying to select his glitter glue colors. “Alright there, Ni,” he asks and Niall looks up with a smile on his face. The smile droops a bit when he sees Louis’ tense stance and the tightness around his mouth.

“What happened,” he asks, full of concern but still focused on the glitter glue in front of him.

“Asshole employee,” Louis replies, shrugging. He kneels down beside Niall, begins to put back the colors he knows Niall already has. “Pick the colors that look best with Liam’s complexion,” he advises, reveling in Niall’s answering cackle. Louis wasn’t wrong—most of the glitter glue is used to decorate Liam while he’s asleep or drunk.

After Niall picks out his colors, the pair head to the counter and Louis huffs upon the realization that Zayn seems to be the only employee currently at the shop. As they reach the counter, Louis is staring pointedly at Zayn who has a less-than-friendly look on his face.

“Find everything alright?” Zayn asks, smirking a bit and Louis throws on a sharp smile, refuses to let Zayn get to him again. Niall is watching the exchange with wide eyes.

“Almost immediately,” Louis replies quickly, fake brightness flooding his voice. Zayn just nods, tells Louis the price and they exchange the money.

“Have a sick day, bro,” Zayn replies flatly, handing Louis the bag. Louis salutes Zayn and makes his hasty exit.

He just wanted to finish his fucking shield.

 

 

~~

 

 

Louis has been at the coffee shop for over half his opening shift and is finally, blessedly getting a moment to himself. He’s just finished pouring the water to brew his tea and relaxing into a chair when the door chimes, indicating that someone’s entered the shop.

Louis feels confident enough in his position to groan loudly at the intrusion. He doesn’t think his boss will fire him for his general disdain for people interrupting his quiet time. He looks up to glare at the intruder and nearly falls out of the chair.

“’re you fucking kidding me?” Louis sputters, and the boy’s eyes widen in response. He looks a bit like a startled doe before his expression cools.

“It’s me,” Zayn confirms with a smirk, striding up to the counter. “Gonna serve me or not, glue boy?”

Louis has a mind to spit in whatever Zayn has him make, but he’s not quite that evil. He ducks behind the counter, straightening the regulation shop cap with a tiny smiling cup of coffee on the brim that he wears backward on his head.

“What can I get for you?” he asks, all false brightness and smiles. Zayn narrows his eyes a bit, pressing his hands down on the counter. He seems to be looking for Louis’ motive, as if he’s got one. He’s on the clock, after all.

“Coffee, black, and a cinnamon swirl muffin-,” he glances down at Louis’ chest, his name tag proudly stating: Louis—nb/he/him/his, “Louis,” he finishes smoothly. Louis gives a quick nod and turns to prepare the order.

Zayn is tapping out a rhythm on the counter while he waits and whistling softly and Louis has gone from pleasantly tired to keyed up and angry in the three minute span that the dark haired boy has been there. When he finishes the order, Zayn’s already got the money on the counter and Louis makes his change.

“Not a fucking boy,” Louis mutters “Have a nice day.”

Zayn has the decency to look ashamed and his face is bright red. “Sorry, I-…sorry,” he states, and takes his order, rushing out the door. Louis watches Zayn leave the shop, feeling years older than when he entered.

 

 

~~

 

 

After months of preparation, glue, stitching, sweat and hard earned money spent, Louis’ costume is complete and it’s time for the party. Louis recalls, as he’s getting into his suit, that Liam suggested he get the number of the boy he's being set up with so they could fit the couples costume theme. Louis laughs at the memory; as if he was going to change his idea to match any boy’s.

Louis pulls the mask over his eyes, picks up his shield and stares at himself in the mirror. The moment of truth. He looks fucking amazing, is the truth. The red white and blue costume hugs his thighs beautifully, his fake chest—he hasn’t got that much ego—looks as if he’s rock solid muscle and the belt and shield look authentic. Louis allows himself a moment of immense pride. He’s going to be the coolest superhero at the party.

 

When he and Niall—dressed as Cupid, hoping that will forgo his lack of a partner—arrive at Liam’s the party is already in full swing. When they walk in, they find Liam and Sophia immediately, dressed as Mickey and Minnie, cuddling and laughing on the couch. They’re horrible. When Liam notices them, he jumps up, jostling Sophia and her drink, but she’s giggling so hard, Louis isn’t sure she noticed at all.

“Tommo! Neil,” Liam roars, lifting them into a huge, unsteady bear hug. Louis laughs, hugging him back tightly.

“You two are adorable,” Niall laughs, gesturing to Sophia. Liam beams, rejoins his girlfriend on the couch.

“Your costume is amazing, Louis,” Sophia compliments and Louis bows his head graciously.

“Made it meself,” he indulges, watching her light up in response.

“You’re so talented!” she crows and Louis thanks her again, sitting down next to Niall on the opposite couch. There’s bottles and cans everywhere, empty, half full, candy wrappers galore and Halloween decorations that were probably meticulously hung several hours ago.

“My friend is already here, the one I wanted you to meet,” Liam tells Louis, excitement alight in his voice. “Zayn,” he calls across the room and Louis freezes. There’s no fucking way.

But there is a way. And it’s worse than Louis could have possibly dreamed. He meets the gaze of what is most definitely Asshole Crafts Shop Zayn who is absolutely and undeniably wearing a Winter Soldier costume. It’s possible Louis has choked on his own tongue.

Zayn's costume is gorgeous, and the sleeve his arm was in was made of actual metal and the mask on his face was perfectly cut and Louis felt like screaming. The moment his eyes lock with Zayn, Zayn stops dead in his tracks, about a foot away from the couch.

He recovers fairly quickly and Louis is sure that he and Niall were the only ones who noticed the misstep. As Zayn settles next to Sophia, across from them, he and Louis eye one another. They’re checking out costumes from head to toe. Louis is wishing he had something snotty or critical to say about Zayn’s but every piece is above and beyond.

“Really,” Louis hears from beneath his mask, pulling him from his trance, and—that’s just not on. Zayn was the one who was an asshole to him!

“Really what?” Louis demands, standing and hovering over Zayn who’s is still sitting comfortably on the couch—or, as comfortable as one can be with a metal sleeve.

Zayn shrugs a shoulder carelessly but his eyes are irritated at best and he stands to Louis. “May not have sold you the glue if I’d known what you were using it for. You were a right dick from the moment you stepped in the shop anyhow,” he informed, and Louis sputtered.

Before Louis could retort, Liam let out a protesting, “hey!” They both looked at their friend. “I told you guys to get in contact and come up with a couples costume. Tha’s not a bloody couples costume,” and. Well.

“The fuck you mean?” Zayn and Louis snarled in unison.

“Steve and Bucky is a fucking couples costume, Leemo, have you not seen the movie?” Louis asked incredulously because there’s no way that Liam saw the same Captain America films that he did.

“That’s not on, Liam. Steve and Bucky have stood the test of time, been through hardships. How could you say they’re not in love?” and Zayn may have had a few drinks before this conversation, but his statement was still heartfelt.

Liam looks cowed and Louis immediately softens, stepping forward to rustle his hair, jostling his mouse ears. “It’s fine, Payno, I’m gonna get a drink, Zayn here is going to come with me,” he assures and Liam smiles, nodding vigorously.

Louis glances toward Niall, who’s giving him a discreet thumbs up and Louis takes Zayn by the hand, pulling him toward the kitchen. Zayn lets him. Weaving between all the drunken party guests and sticking his head in the fridge only serves to disappoint Louis. Everything good has already been taken. Upon noticing this, Zayn offers his freshly opened drink to Louis. Zayn is probably not trying to poison him.

Louis takes the drink with begrudging thanks and pulls Zayn out the back door. No one has spilled out onto the back step yet, so they settle there. Zayn pulls a pack of smokes from his pocket, a lighter from the other. He offers one off to Louis and Louis accepts, passing the drink back to Zayn in return. Zayn declines, sets the bottle down on the step between them and leans over to light the cigarette in Louis’ mouth.

Louis takes a drag and relaxes against the railing behind him. “Not to break this silent bonding session, because I do think silence becomes us as a pair,” he begins, catching the way Zayn’s mouth quirks up, “but I’ve got to know all your feelings about the comic series.”

Zayn visibly brightens, taking another quick drag of his own cigarette. They burn through several cigarettes each, empty the bottle between the two of them and talk themselves hoarse on that back step. They talk Marvel, talk DC. Zayn finds out Louis’s obsession with the fact that Bucky recognizes Steve best when he’s bruised and bloody and screaming for him and Zayn reveals that when he was a little boy being bullied on the playground, telling himself that Captain America would save the day always got him through lunch in the end. But they also talk family and friends, talk gender, talk love. They talk until their eyelids are drooping and beyond, talk until the sky begins to turn pink and orange with the new day.

Louis should have known that Liam was right, he thinks idly, toying with the metal arm Zayn had discarded hours ago. If there’s one thing Liam knows best, it’s his friends. He considers Zayn in the glow of the sunrise; the shadows playing across his face and making his golden eyes turn unreal colors. He’s fucking beautiful and Louis is so lucky.

“Feel like I need to apologize for what an ass I was in the shop,” Louis mumbles, his tongue sleep heavy. “Didn’t actually know where I was going,” he confesses. Zayn regards him with an expression Louis is too exhausted to decipher, but he perceives it as positive when Zayn slides his foot over, knocking it into Louis’ own.

“’s alright,” Zayn replies, closing his eyes for a moment. “I was a right fuckin’ prick to call you a boy at your work, I usually work pretty hard not to do things like that.” His eyes are open now, wide and sincere, like it means everything to him that his newfound companion understands.

Louis nods in reply and knocks his foot back against Zayn’s. “’s okay. Now you know,” he tells Zayn, and that’s that.

They try to talk a bit more but it all goes a bit tits-up when Zayn falls asleep during a story Louis is telling about his sisters. Louis wakes him up with a little shove, giggling and Zayn snorts awake, a flush on his cheeks. Louis suggests that they take a selfie for Instagram, and they do, shoulders pressed together, bright, sleepy smiles on their faces.

They exchange info and Zayn’s smile warms when he opens the photo he’s been tagged in. It’s their selfie, lightly filtered with the caption, “Old enemies make for new friends ! Till the end of the line, pal !”.

 

 

~~

 

 

It took the pair less than 3 months to decide to move in together. Their combined income was more than enough to move to a quaint little one bedroom in Louis’ building. The entire place was decorated with dorky memorabilia, things they’ve both collected over the years, little gifts they can buy for one another when they’ve got the spare cash.

There are several moments—where Louis is fitting Zayn’s old sheets on their new bed, when they find that they set the toilet roll opposite ways, when Zayn insists that they only use expensive energy saving light bulbs—where Louis wonders if this is too fast, or even if its right at all.

Coming home after a long shift to find Zayn curled up in his reading chair, wearing Louis’ t-shirt reminds him that it’s right. Their parents and siblings meeting on moving day and hitting it off almost immediately remind him that it’s right. Zayn beneath him, writhing and begging and whimpering his name reminds him that it’s right. Zayn waking Louis every morning with the gentlest of kisses so he doesn’t have to use an alarm reminds him that it’s right.

Their apartment becomes a home and their neighborhood becomes home and they become home to one another and Louis gets his compass tattoo to prove it. Zayn tears up when Louis shows it to him and it’s right.

 

 

~~

 

 

Louis has never been so fucking nervous in his life. He and Zayn are getting ready in their apartment because sod traditions, and their cat, Nick Fury—named because he was born blind in one eye, still had on his tiny patch when they adopted him—is attempting to climb his leg for attention.

Louis is shaking a bit, as he tries to do up his tie when a warm, familiar hand lands on his shoulder. He turns, a smile already spreading across his face. Zayn is standing in front of him, but like. It’s not just Zayn. It’s his husband to be. His best friend, his co-cat-parent, his lover. But it’s still Zayn.

“You look bloody gorgeous,” Zayn tells him, and his eyes are as bright as his smile. Louis flushes, presses a kiss to his face.

“Me?” Louis enquires, tugging at Zayn’s lapels. He’s wearing all black, head to toe. Louis is wearing the same in all navy—which isn’t his color but its _his_ color, _Steve’s_ color—and all black just does something for Zayn that it doesn’t for Louis. Louis is willing to sacrifice looking good in order for his husband to look his absolute best.

“Yes, you,” Zayn replies, quirking an eyebrow. He glances down at his watch and back up at Louis. “We’ve got, like, 20 minutes before we have to leave,” Zayn informs him, reaching forward to grip his hip. Louis’ breathe hitches.

“What could we ever think of doing in that amount of time, darling?” he asks, faux innocence in his voice. Zayn smirks, as his hand trails lower, presses against the bulge slowly forming in Louis’ pants.

“I’m sure we can think of something, babes,” Zayn replies, pressing Louis back, back, back until he’s lying on their bed. He stands up straight again, ushering Nick Fury out of the room to the cats dismay and closes the door on him.

Zayn moves back in front of Louis, staring him up and down, a predatory gaze on his face.

“Better hurry up, love, don’t wanna be late to your own wedding,” Louis advises coolly, like he’s not going mad under the attention. Zayn obeys, quickly stripping him from the waist down.

All the nerves flood from Louis’ body as Zayn ducks his head down and Louis wraps his hand gently around the back of his neck. It’s so familiar and calming and Louis loves this man more than life itself sometimes.

 

They get to the venue with several minutes to spare, just in time for their mums to cry over them and Harry, Niall and Liam to fuss and make fun of their matching outfits. When the music begins to play, they walk down the isle together, arm in arm.

When they reach the end, Harry is standing there, tears in his big green eyes and doesn’t look much to Louis like he’s going to be able to hold it together through the vows. “It’s fine, big guy,” he says and Harry gives a watery laugh, bumping their hips together.

Everything goes rather quickly after that, promises are made, and rings are exchanged. They’re both hopeless with memorization so their vows are written on small cards, decorated by Niall in glitter glue. Just before Harry declares, “you may kiss your husband,” the room goes deadly silent. Zayn and Louis are holding hands and they are married now. They’re going to be together forever.

“Till the end of the line,” Louis declares, squeezing Zayn’s hands between his.

“Till the end of the line,” Zayn affirms, squeezing back.

Harry is crying too hard at this point to award them their first kiss as a couple so Zayn takes matters into his own hands, pressing his lips hard to Louis’ and dipping the smaller man in his arms. Louis kisses back like he’s got nothing to lose, like he’s never going to kiss anyone else in his life. Like he’s with this man, well, till the end of the line. As they say.

 

And its right.

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to thelonelycoast for the amazing prompts!


End file.
